


Good Company

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Series: Noodle Dragon Fics [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Implied Relationships, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7584832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCree knew what to expected when captured. Some pain. Cold floors. Not enough sleep.  </p><p>He never expected company. </p><p>Or noodle dragons check on a missing friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

McCree woke up to a breath of warm air on his face.

He was sure it’d been days since he’d felt anything slightly warm, trapped here in Talon’s cells. Captured almost four days ago, the entire affair has consisted of nothing but torture and freezing his ass off, the empty cell’s metal floors not conductive to keeping body heat. He asked for a blanket on the first day, trying to pass the time by driving them a little nuts. They’d responded by turning down the temperature another five degrees.

Him and his big mouth. 

He opened his eyes, hoping the warm air wasn’t from a guard about to haul him out for another round of “interrogation.” To his surprise, no such guard was there, the cell as empty as ever. McCree blinked, wondering if he’d imagined it. He was almost about to go back to sleep when he heard a small huff and looked down. 

Right there, lying right next to one of his bare feet was one of the dragons. Hanzo’s dragons.

It didn’t look the same as usual when it was small, see-through instead of solid, but it still kept its small form, blue light coming from its scales. It looked at the chains around McCree’s ankles and growled, swiping forward at them. Its paw went right through.

“You?” He said louder than he intended. When no guard came he leaned forward. “What are you doing here?” A terrible thought settled in his gut. “They didn’t get Hanzo too?”

The dragon shook its head. McCree let out a sigh; that was a relief. But it didn’t answer his question.

“Then how are you here?”

The dragon stared, then swiped at the cuff again. Still nothing. It looked at McCree.

“Did Hanzo send you?” A nod. “I didn’t know he could do that.” The dragon titled its head. McCree had a feeling Hanzo didn’t know he could do it either, at least till recently. “Is your brother with you?”

The dragon shook its head, speaking a sentence in Japanese. McCree wished he’d bothered to learn: he’d sure it prove useful right now. He looked down at the dragon and gave it a smile. It hurt his broken nose, but he considered it worth it. 

“Well, I’m thankful at the company at least. You here for the rescue attempt? Cus I ain’t gonna be running too fast with a broken ankle.” The dragon ignored him, swiping at the cuff again. No effect. Letting out a sigh, it climbed up onto McCree’s leg, and then up his torso before settling on his shoulder. While McCree couldn’t feel its steps, each point of contact provided a faction of warmth. He could feel his shoulder warming up as it settled there, looking him over. Its eyes settled on McCree’s ankle first, then his ribs, then his broken prosthetic, finally settling on his nose. It growled.

“I’m fine.” The dragon looked unconvinced. “No, really I’ve had worse. This is nothin.” The dragon was unmoved. “You’re as bad as Hanzo. Is being a worrywart a shared trait? Or is it a dragon thing?” 

The dragon blew onto his face and McCree chuckled, his voice soft. He was feeling warmer now with it on his shoulder. 

“You can get back to Hanzo right?” The dragon nodded. “You can go do that. Give him a nice word from me. Maybe tell him to let the rescue team know to bring a warm blanket and some coffee.”

The dragon eyed him for a moment, but it didn’t move. McCree watched the blue light from its scales hit the cell walls. It was rather beautiful, he thought. A nice glow in all this darkness.

“You’ll have to leave when the guards come in,” he said. “I doubt them knowing you can get here will be good for the operation to save my ass.” He let out a deep breath. Took in another. “They’re comin’ for me. Right?”

The dragon looked at him for a long moment. Its whiskers twitched. It said something quick in Japanese and while McCree didn’t understand the exact words, the tone gave him his answer.

“Of course, you fool.”

“Alrighty then.” McCree closed his eyes. Reminded himself that this wasn’t like Blackwatch, wasn’t like before, where they’d forget about him in the mess of everything else. They would come for him. He’d get out. And maybe even have a warm blanket at the ready.

He began to whistle, determined to pass the time. A soft tune, one he knew as a boy. After a minute, another voice joined in too, humming in key with every note. 

 _Dragons_ , McCree thought, _made lovely music._

It was with that thought, he went back to sleep, the dragon guardian watching on his shoulder. 


	2. What Everyone Knows

Angela remembered the first time she met a Shimada dragon. 

It was after saving Genji. She could still remember how it happened after all these years, how she thought him dead on first sight until the man had gasped out a breathe. She could still remember the blood that had stained her arms up to the elbows, how she was so terrified of having another man she couldn’t save, how brown eyes had stared at her helplessly as her team struggled to keep him together. She could still remember how she grabbed his hand to provide some support, something to root the dying man to the living.

That was how she met the dragon: squeezing a hand. It’d come to life, a flash of green snaking out of the pool of blood. A mighty thing, brought to its knees. She still remembered how it climbed on her shoulders and whispered one of the few words she knew in Japanese.

_Thank you._

That memory she’d never be able to forget. Even when she saw Genji’s dragon now, a more familiar sight over the years, that memory lingered behind it. The image of a man holding on. Genji had taken a full year to tell her what it meant. 

_“The dragons…do not trust easily. They only trust their smaller forms with their master’s family and close friends.”_

It took him another year to tell her the rest.

_“And those their master loves.”_

Angela reached up for the necklace she kept under her shirt, the small charm there. An old gift, a small green painted dragon. It had been a great grounding force after all these years, something for her to hold onto when she felt astray. To remind her why she stayed in this miserable work. How many she’d managed to save. She took a deep breath then entered the hospital room. 

There was no saving to be done here: the rescue mission was over and McCree was fine. But Angela knew she would have to retire the day the sight of a friend on a hospital bed didn’t fill her with sorrow.

“Hello, Jesse,” she said, sweeping his hair back. He was fine, as fine as Talon captives got. A few broken bones, a mild case of hypothermia. Nothing she hadn’t already fixed. But she worried all the same. “You gave us a fright.”

That he did. When the away team came back with the news that McCree had been captured, no one breathed easy for days. Too many knew how often they got Talon captives back. Lena was almost never in the base, likely scouting for any sign of where McCree could have ended up. Genji spent his time in Angela’s office when he wasn’t on patrol, trying to meditate in the silence. Ana could be found with her daughter, whispering in hushed tones. 

Hanzo spent two days meditating before he came back with the status report that McCree was still alive.

At the time Angela was clueless how he could know such information, but now she had an idea, looking at the two blue dragons at the foot of McCree’s bed. They were smaller than usual, likely not to cramp up the space, curled up near his feet. Both were awake, staring at the cowboy every few seconds, and one hummed an old song Angela had heard McCree whistle a few times. 

She wondered if Genji knew about this. Angela had a feeling he did; he did have a habit of knowing about everyone’s business. And this wasn’t exactly subtle.

“Did he tell you what this means?” Angela said, shaking her head. “Or has he waiting on his brother to tell you?”

McCree didn’t respond, passed out. Angela couldn’t blame him, he had to be exhausted. She looked towards the doorway when she heard a noise and smiled.

“He is fine, you know. We’re expecting a full recovery.”

There was a beat of silence before anyone responded.

“And mentally?” Hanzo sounded detached, but Angela knew better. 

“Jesse is strong. He will pull through. He has good friends.”

Another pause.

“It took us too long to find him.”

“He was deep underground.”

“That is not an excuse.”

“Well,” Angela said after a moment. “From what he told me when I found him, he had company.” She looked down to the dragon who was whistling. “You should tell him. He likely already knows.”

“I-” There was nothing for what felt like a full minute. “He can do better.”

Angela sighed. She’d heard this herself, years ago. Shimadas. More alike than they would ever know. “I think that is his choice to make. Not yours.”

She waited for Hanzo to show his face, to walk into the room proper. He didn’t. After a moment, the archer responded, voice soft.

“Take care of him.”

One of the dragons let out a snort, rolling its eyes before Angela could respond. As she heard the archer leave, she still had no idea if he had been talking to the dragons or herself.

“Fool men,” she said, shaking her head. She walked up to McCree and thought how bare his head looked without his hat. She would have to retrieve it.

As the dragons slept on keeping guard by McCree’s feet, Angela reached for her necklace. Closed her eyes. 

For a second, she thought she could feel small footfalls of a green dragon on her shoulder. 


End file.
